Heart of the Sword: RK Drabbles
by emptyword
Summary: [Drabble series] Short and quick, easy reading with some food for thought on the side. Drabble Three: Social Darwinism.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** With the limited amount of time I have now, I'm hardpressed to write long, painstaking chapters. Drabbles afford the quick, easy write I've been needing lately. Most of the collection here will be character-centric, since that's mostly what I write. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** _Rurouni Kenshin_ is the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, SPE Visual Works, Anime Works, and others I may have missed. None of the characters in this or any succeeding chapters belong to me.

**Drabble One:** Black Envelope

**Summary:** A glimpse into the life of a hitokiri.

**Word Count:** 100

* * *

A black envelope lands on the desk, its single red insignia a glare in the dark, warning of the blood to be spilled tonight.

I reach for the envelope, nimble fingers stiffening as they pull out the sheet, unfolding it. The name scrawled across the blank paper is one unknown to me, another jumble of letters to be pieced together on the Day of Judgment. Tonight, I act as executioner.

My fingers close around my katana, finding their well-worn groove, and the next moment, I've melted silently out the window.

My soul slips further into shadows with each step forward.

* * *

June 6, 2006


	2. Chapter 2

**Drabble Two:** Peripheral Life

**Summary:** Who of us would choose suffering? The courage and fortitude of a woman's heart.

**Word Count:** 368

* * *

The sun is blinding behind him as he extends a calloused hand towards me. "Shall we go home, Kaoru-dono?" he says warmly, his mask of a smile locked in place. As unmovable as the scar graven into his left cheek, as interminable as the guilt binding his heart.

With sudden trepidation, I realize what life with this man will be like. He was and ever is a wanderer, driven by repentance and bound by his character to do his utmost for the world. Life with him would mean much more than compromise, more than mere obedience and fulfilling my duties as wife. Life with him would be a sacrifice to the uttermost, loving him yet maintaining the distance he requires, supporting all his endeavors yet allowing him to shoulder his own burdens, providing comfort whenever needed yet watching him leave when he is compelled to go again. I see myself in the future, gray-haired and wrinkled, my eyes blind from staring into the sunset, watching for the return of my itinerant husband, and my chest aching from years of worry on his behalf. The vivid image shakes me to the core.

Unbidden, words tumble out. "Kenshin, maybe..."

My voice falters and my mind blanks. Maybe _what_? Maybe we shouldn't go home together tonight? Maybe we should reconsider living together? Maybe we should go our separate ways?

No. Ridiculous. There is no maybe for that. There is no life without him, not after all this time, all the tears, all the laughter. Knowing he is a part of my future is what gives me peace to sleep at night, courage to face the mornings, and joy to revel in the beauty of the world. Maybe I'll suffer, maybe we'll be apart for long periods of time, maybe I'll even give in to crying sessions each day, but having him is worth more than all that combined.

I return his patient, carefully carefree smile. The halo of sunlight around him cloaks a man struggling with eternal demons, and I am meant to struggle with him.

"Maybe," I say again, slipping my hand into his offered one, "I'll buy the tofu tomorrow morning."

He has chosen his life. I choose mine.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I've tweak the meaning of social darwinism a little to fit Saitou, so it might seem "Eh? What?" at first.

**Drabble Three:** Social Darwinism

**Summary:** The adaptable survive, as Saitou well knows.

**Word Count:** 100

* * *

I strike a match, turning my back on the brief, fitful gusts from the open window to shelter the tiny flame. Placing the matchbox carefully back in my drawer, I retrieve a cigarette and balance it between my lips. I light the thin roll of tobacco, turning to look out the window at Japan.

Sakura trees don't blossom until three weeks later. But as I gaze at the forlorn tree near our house, stripped of its raiment during the winter months, I catch a flash of pink. An early bloomer. Alone in the barren world.

I inhale the Western smoke.

* * *

October 7, 2006


End file.
